Misunderstood
by Hapkido9Chick
Summary: A collection of short snippets exploring the different dimensions of everyone's favorite misunderstood biotic.
1. Chapter 1

_She's the girl that is good at secretly loving people with all her heart…but she's not good at letting them love her._

"Damn it, Shepard!" I sprint desperately across the warehouse expanse, a trail of biotic attacks, explosions, and gunfire chasing me. Scraping my knees as I slide into cover, I look down at the struggling Shepard. A chunk of shrapnel from a frag grenade has penetrated the armor in his thigh and already a thick trail of blood is oozing across the ground.

He props himself against the crate and tugs at the intruding metal from his leg with a grunt. "Let me," I say, shoving his hands out of the way as I begin to pull his armor plates off and dress the wound.

"Jack," Shepard says with a smug grin, "Is this an act of…_compassion_? From _you_?"

_Fuck it, he's on to me. _"Don't flatter yourself," I hiss, ripping the shrapnel from his leg with more force than necessary. I grin inwardly as his precious little smirked morphs into a grimace.

"I don't know," he argues calmly. "You made a dangerous risk running over here like you did."

_Damn this man and his goddamn intuition! _"Shut the hell up before I kill you myself."

Despite the battle raging around us – despite the cries of our enemies and our allies, despite the dizzying flash of blasters and the ear-splitting explosions that leave your head ringing – I manage to zone out everything except this man in front of me. My focus is now trained on him, on his heaving chest and scarred, sweaty face that somehow makes me weak at the knees. Why does he have this effect on me?

"Thank you, Jack," Shepard whispers as I apply the last bit of Medi-gel to his wound.

"This had nothing to do with you," I growl. _It had everything to do with you._

"What?"

"Listen _buddy,_ I'm only helping you because we'll lose this battle if you can't fight." _I'm only helping because I _want _to, because I want to touch you and help you and keep you safe; because something about you makes me want to fight off a Krogan army just to save _you.

I can't let him know that I care; caring is weakness, and Jack has to be strong.

"Jack," Shepard says after the battle is over, his assault rifle hanging from his side as he half-limps towards me. "You were hit." He motions to my arm where a patch of skin is stained with crimson. "I'll get some Medi-gel-"

"Just a graze," I reply, pulling away. "I can take care of it myself."

I can't let him see my weakness.

_She's the girl that's good at being there for the ones she cares about – she'll catch them when they fall, pick them up if they hit the ground, hold them together when they're about to break – but she won't let them be there for her._


	2. Chapter 2

First, just a big thanks to everyone who added me to their favorites and alerts, and also to Exar for reviewing! Hope you like this next installment :)

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_She's the girl who pushes people out and they push back until they finally give up and walk away. She's the girl who feels justified for keeping them at arm's length, for not letting them through her defenses…_

"I want to know more about you."

What - that I'm an abused, inked, shorn, combat-boot-wearing, card-carrying psychopath with a well-publicized history of murdering, um, _everyone_? Is _that_, what you want to know, Shepard? "Look pal, I see the game you're trying to play here."

Shepard cocks his glorious head to one side. "No games, Jack. I just want to know what makes you tick; what makes you, well, _you_. Last time you mentioned something about your escape from Pragia – maybe you could tell me a bit more about that."

So you wanna get inside my head, huh? Well fat chance I'm telling _anybody _about what those sick bastards did to me. "I'm not exactly the "heart-to-heart" type, Shepard."

"I like to know my crew," he responds innocently, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. That impenetrable sense of calm is _really _starting to bug me.

That's it? He wants to know his _crew_? _You don't mean anything to him, Jack – he's just using you to get what he wants._ "I get it, Shepard – you're a busy guy. You're trying to be the savior of the universe but that's constantly getting put on hold because you have to deal with your team's emotional problems like you're some kind of fucking therapist. Go visit the cheerleader if you want small talk."

The man before me smiles understandingly, but he doesn't budge. "I'll always be available if you ever want to talk – about _anything_." His voice has miraculously changed from its usual commanding and steely tone to something much smoother – almost like velvet and mesmerizing with each syllable.

"Just get the fuck outta my basement." _How am I supposed to tell him I want him to stay without sounding pathetic?_

Shepard shoots me one final, dazzling smile and begins the ascent upstairs. "I'll talk to you later, Jack."

_I wish I could talk to you _now. "Whatever."

A part of me wonders why the hell it's so damn hard to figure out what Shepard's after. The less rational, more realistic side of me thinks – _hopes_, really – that maybe he _isn't _after anything. What's that called? Genuine concern? Care? Compassion? All of the above?

Fuck that.

_She feels a twisted sense of satisfaction that they walked away because then she can convince herself that she did the right thing, that she protected herself somehow – at least they walked away before they got close enough to hurt her, before she made them her everything and was left crushed and with nothing when they left. _


	3. Chapter 3

_She's the girl who let's herself care so much that she would die for them, but stops them from caring that much about her because losing them would destroy her – it's easier knowing that she could die for someone she loves than it is knowing that a part of herself would die because of them._

A flash of white, a streak of orange, a pool of red.

I'm not sure why I'm on the floor. I'm not sure why the alarms are blasting or why the room is torn apart and on fire. I'm not sure why everything seems to be spinning or why I can't move or if this red ooze that's all around me is blood; I'm not sure if it's _mine_.

I'm not sure how it feels to die, but I think maybe I'm about to.

I thought my life was supposed to flash before my eyes; I thought I was supposed to repent for all my sins and realize the error of my ways and then be blinded by a flash of magnificent golden light as the angels carried away my soul.

Pffft. Either that's the biggest load of shit I've ever heard, or I'm not dying.

My money is on the former.

The most surprising thing about all of this is that I'm thinking about Shepard - hoping that he survives this suicide run, knowing that somehow he'll pull through. I can't seem to get his image out of my head: that dazzling, confident grin, the way the light reflects off his scratchy buzz cut, his mesmerizing azure orbs connecting with my own…

"Jack?" I try to look around, but something in my neck cracks when it moves and a lightning bolt of pain jolts my entire body.

"Jack!" A thick wave of static accompanies the voice that can only belong to Joker, and I realize with dread that it's coming through the intercom, not actually _beside _me. Damn.

Trying to respond is hopeless – I can't even feel my mouth, let alone _move _it. If I still have a mouth, that is.

Another voice sounds over the intercom, but this one carries no emotion. "EKG has flatlined. She is dead."

I'm not dead yet, you artificial bitch!

"Are you sure?" The worry in Shepard's voice in obvious, and I beam inwardly. As the rest of my vision is clouded with hazy black, his face enters my mind once more.

"Shepard, we don't' have time to worry about it; we have to stay focused." Of course. The fucking frigid cheerleader _would _tell Shepard not to care about his teammate dying two levels down. If only I could move, I would rip out that bitch's throat with my fingers and send a biotic shockwave through her body so strong she'd explode into nothingness.

Except I can't move. I can't feel. I can't even _see _anymore. It's like someone shut off the lights and then closed the blinds; I'm still here but I don't know where _here _is. This wasn't how I'd imagined it happening, but things never go as planned. I hadn't planned on Shepard crashing into my life and making it worth living again…so I guess something good came from that bastard, after all.

_She's the girl who is destined to die alone with nothing but a string of almost loves in her heart; the ones who nearly burned down her walls and destroyed her defenses, the ones who almost caught her before she ran away, the ones who nearly held on tight enough before she could push them away. But she slipped right through their fingers like sand, like always._


End file.
